


Bright Center of the Galaxy

by organasrey (skinman)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Family, Origins, Other, Rey Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinman/pseuds/organasrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning Han Solo made a promise he couldn't keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Center of the Galaxy

“Captain Solo?”

Han was tremoring ever so slightly. Hands twisting together anxiously, clammy and rough. He tore his gaze from the evenly polished stone floor to look up toward the person who’d called themselves to his attention.

He was sat on a red couch with elegant curves and plush cushions. Their arms curled in that intricate way the core planets favoured; he’d rested an elbow on one earlier as he waited for news. He’d sat in silence, hearing only the prolonged cries from behind that closed door above the buzz of the city outside, small ships shooting past the large window opposite, on the other side of the hallway, unnoticed by him. He’d wanted to be in there, so many times he’d wanted to be in the room, he flinched to hear her cries when he couldn’t be there. With Ben he had been, but they did things differently here, and the midwives had somehow convinced him it was only right he sit outside and wait.

“Uh… yes?” Han stood, his legs unsure, they quivered underneath him both in anticipation and fear.

“Would you like to meet her?” The young midwife smiled, her hands folded over a crisp, white pinafore.

Han shoved his restless hands into his pant pockets and swallowed, nodding as he did so.

“Follow me.” The nurse responded, reaching out to turn the handle of the door Han had longed to burst through for so many hours.

She led him into the large bedchamber, and he spotted his wife first. Dark hair splayed out across the pillow. Han moved carefully and swiftly over to Leia, perching on the edge of the soft, plum sheets.

“Don’t worry, it’s good that she’s sleeping.” A knowing voice, Han didn’t know whose, reached him.

The man brought his fingers up to Leia’s hairline, brushing matted curls gently back. He took note of her chest rising and falling with a comforting rhythm.

“This one’s sleeping as well.” The other, older nurse smiled down at the motionless bundle in her arms, wrapped in pure white swaddling.

Han felt himself reaching for the baby, the move was instinctive, his hands gravitating toward the little girl’s small, warm body. When tucked inside his arms by the midwife the baby still did not stir, the only movement was the flutter of tiny dark eyelashes against the pale roundness of the child’s cheeks. A soft tuft of dark hair protruding from the swaddling to fall over her brow. Han smiled a little wider; he’d been born with a lot of hair. So had Ben.

A terror ran through him as he looked down at his daughter. Could he do this again? His relationship with his young son grew more and more challenging every time they met. He’d never put much faith in himself being a good father, and so far he was proving himself right.

Ben was good kid. He’d always been quiet, introverted, he preferred to play alone, but was happy enough. He wasn’t like Han. Their outlook, their personalities, their likes and dislikes, they were all at odds. Han had tried so hard, but the boy resented him when he was gone and begrudged him when he came home. Han had tried to connect… maybe he should have tried harder. He would do better. He would do better for Ben, for Leia, for his daughter.

“Senator Organa said you were going to name her Briha?” The young nurse reappeared, a datapad held her arms, and a silver protocol droid that resembled C3PO at her side.

“Breha.” Han looked down again at his daughter. Her mouth formed a soft ‘O’ as she continued to sleep. “After Leia’s mother.” Of course both he and Leia knew Breha Organa hadn’t been Leia’s birth mother, but she had been the woman who had raised her, and Leia still loved her deeply. They had considered Lucia, for Luke, but something about Breha had played on their mind. There was something about it that felt like it was meant to be.

“Breha Solo. Perfect. We’ll get her registered.” The midwife nodded, scribbling something onto the screen with her finger, before handing it to the droid.

After that it seemed the midwives were done with him. The elder one tended to a sleeping Leia, and the other vanished, leaving Han to be with his new daughter. He found himself walking from the room out into the hallway he had come from, drawing up to the wide panel of glass that he’d been gazing out of for the past several hours. Except now he had her.

“This is your home Breha.” Han muttered. “This is where you were born.” He ran his gaze over the glittering, gleaming silver spires and steeples that stretched out into the horizon. Points of light that sparkled with enumerable colours. They were on the 116th floor of a 400 floor building. The city planet, Hosnian Prime, the bright center of the galaxy, shining in the rising light of the suns.

The baby wriggled and tucked her nose into the fabric of his shirt. Han let out a shuddering sigh, talking with a newfound thickness in his voice he continued.

“I was born somewhere different... I’ll take you there someday, Kid. When you’re old enough.” Han made a promise he hoped he could keep, his gaze fixed on Breha’s face. “It’s nice there. Green… every kid should get to play in a garden...” He trailed off, and tore his eyes from her, lifted them up to acknowledge the sunlight breaking through the tight gap that lay between the two skyscrapers opposite. A sharp needle of light from the sunrise broke through the glass and fell directly across father and daughter.

The baby stirred, small, pink hands breaking through the loosened swaddling to reach upward, fists curling at the light. Her eyes cracking open to greet it; they were murky blue for now, but he knew, somehow, that one day they would be the same golden green as his own. This little girl saw the world through his eyes. Her hands lifted up to grasp at a brightness she truly believed she could obtain.

He could see her years from now. He wouldn’t wish away his daughter’s childhood, but he couldn’t help but imagine her as a woman, just as bright-eyed and strong as Leia at 19. Perhaps a pilot like him? She would be the best pilot in the Republic. Han smiled. Ben had never held much of an affinity for the Falcon, maybe it could be Breha’s one day. He’d like that.

The girl let out a small cry and turned her head toward the sunrise, blinking tightly only to open her eyes wide.

“You like the suns, huh, Breha?” Han said softly, affectionately, putting his pinky finger to her small palm. The ray fell directly across the child’s small features, but she was unfazed. “Breha…” Han muttered, “…Rey.” He stroked her hand with his finger, feeling her skin, delicate as fine silk and as soft as velvet. Rey… like a sun’s ray.

The baby gurgled and clutched at Han’s finger, a foot kicking against his upper arm. In that moment it was like she took everything. Everything inside of him shifted, pushing outward, it wasn’t just his heart; it was like everything he was suddenly belonged to her. A choke rose in his throat and a grin broke forth, a wide smile forming. He was so happy, and so so scared. Everything was so uncertain; Leia’s faith in the Republic lessened with every day that passed, Luke was distant, and his eldest child resented him.

“Rey? You like that?” Han raised a brow. “You know if your Mom wakes up and I’ve already butchered your name she’s going to kill me.”

The baby’s feet flailed happily again.

Han sighed, “Look at you. Already getting me into trouble.”

The baby turned her head back to face upward, and Han could swear she focused on him a moment, that she smiled at him with those bright eyes. He knew it was impossible, but he felt it.

Han bit his lip, bringing Rey awkwardly up to his shoulder. It’d been so long since he’d held a baby. He closed his eyes as he pressed a lingering kiss to the baby’s dark, downy hair. His nose nudged her cheek as he drew back and her hands flailed in response, trying to capture it.

“I’ll do better Rey.” Han blinked, trying to banish the pressure that was building behind his gaze. “I’ll be there.”

A tear escaped, rolling down to Rey’s waiting hand, grasping the tip of his nose as hard a it could. She looked up at him intelligently, like she believed him.

“I’ll be there. I promise.” He whispered.

 

 

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